


Past and Present Entwined

by stickdonkeys



Series: Past and Present [2]
Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Consensual Sex, Consensual bondage, Dwarves are great at reassuring prude hobbits, First Time Sex, Interrupted Sex, Light Bondage, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Traumatized Dwalin, Traumatized hobbits, creative (and remarkably flexible) Bilbo, make-up sex, prude hobbits have issues with their own homosexuality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-06 19:21:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/739217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stickdonkeys/pseuds/stickdonkeys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is basically all the smutty outtakes (and Extra smut scenes) from my story When the Past Encroaches on the Present. It can stand alone but turns into a collection of smutty one-shots in that case :) I hope that you enjoy it!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Leaving the Forge (Ch 12 outtake)

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the mature outtakes of When the Past Encroaches on the Present! I'm not sure, but I think that you can probably read this without having read the story that it is a part of and if not, you're more than welcome to read the other and then come back to this! I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. I only mess with the characters in ways that probably make Professor Tolkien roll in his grave, for which I do at least feel some shame.

They had only gone a short ways from the forge when Bilbo's hand brushed his. He glanced down at the hobbit and saw him looking coyly up at him through his curly bangs. The desire Thorin had seen earlier still burnt in his hazel eyes and caused an uncomfortable tightness to coil within the dwarf's stomach. This needed to be dealt with.

They continued back towards town, Thorin's eyes scanning for a suitable place to waylay the hobbit where there was the least chance of them being caught or interrupted. Suddenly a suitable alleyway came into sight. Glancing around quickly to make sure that there was no one around, Thorin grabbed the hobbit by the upper arm and drug him into the darkness. Bilbo looked at him with wide, surprised eyes as Thorin pinned him to the wooden wall of one of the buildings.

"Thorin, what—" Bilbo had time to ask before Thorin's lips were on his. The kiss a nearly aggressive declaration of desire and intent.

"Do you have  _any_  idea how difficult it was for me to focus on my work today?" Thorin growled before beginning to kiss and nip his way down Bilbo's neck. The hobbit panted at the unexpected attention and tipped his head back to allow the dwarf better access.

"It couldn't have been that difficult," Bilbo panted out as his throat worked convulsively trying to keep his own desire at bay. Thorin couldn't mean to . . . not  _here_. "You-you managed it well enough."

"It took every ounce of self-control that I possess not to bend you over the anvil and take you right there. Hobbit sensibilities be damned," Thorin growled as he began to unbutton Bilbo's shirt and waistcoat. Thorin  _did_  intend for it to be there and only the right—or wrong—words from Bilbo would be able to stop him.

Despite himself, Bilbo found that mental image extremely arousing. He had never been one for public displays of affection, not really, and had  _never_  dreamed of exhibitionism, but the thought of Thorin claiming him in such a public fashion—in the Shire, of all places—had his mind wandering and him gasping for air. He could only imagine the look on the smith's face if he had. It would have been priceless. True, they never could have left Bag End again, not after something like  _that_  but it would have been worth it.

"Why didn't you?" Bilbo asked breathless at the scenario his mind had conjured up—or it could have been the unadulterated lust in Thorin's blue eyes.

"I didn't want to scandalize the neighborhood," Thorin said, the pad of his thumb stroking Bilbo's face and his voice little more than a purr. "And I  _assure_  you, the entire neighborhood would have heard us. As it is, unless you tell me to stop, they still may because I will take you right here against this wall." The decidedly predatory smile on his face only served to excite Bilbo all the more.

Bilbo said nothing but instead pulled Thorin down into a searing kiss that left them both floored at the desire that was evident in it. It wasn't a kiss of passion, but something filled with want and longing so pure that it shredded the last vestige of restraint that Thorin had been clinging to. With a growl, his hands slid under Bilbo's shirt, popping the last remaining buttons, before he removed both it and the hobbit's jacket in one movement and dropped them unceremoniously to the ground.

It never even entered into Bilbo's mind to protest the rough treatment of his clothes because he was soon lost in the wonderful feeling of Thorin's calloused hands on his body. It was a touch that he had craved for sixty years and finally it was his once more. What were a few buttons in the face of that? Besides, his own treatment of Thorin's clothing was not much better as he gave into his desire to feel skin-on-skin rather than be encumbered by the barricade of cloth. He vaguely registered the sound of cloth tearing, but dismissed it. There would be time for worrying about that later.

All thoughts about worrying about clothing were forced from his mind as Thorin pushed him against the wall once more plundering his mouth as it was clear that he wanted to plunder his body. One of his hands tangled in Thorin's dark hair trying—impossibly—to deepen the kiss even further, while the other roamed freely over the planes of his lover's body that he remembered so well. He realized suddenly that he had forgotten how warm Thorin's skin became when he was aroused. It was almost as hot as the air in the forge had been.

There was nothing gentle about the way Bilbo was touching him, and Thorin reveled in the hobbit's harsh caresses. He had been with the hobbit many times but never like this. There was nothing timid in Bilbo's behavior. Nothing gentle. He was lost in a state of pure desire and the fact that Thorin had been the one to drive him there caused an appreciative growl to rise up the dwarf's throat before his own hands moved to trail possessively down Bilbo's body before deftly undoing his breaches and allowing them to fall to the ground as well.

Bilbo broke the kiss and looked at Thorin levelly before he trailed his own hands teasingly along the bulge in Thorin's own trousers. His hazel eyes showing that he knew  _exactly_  what he was doing. Thorin moaned at the touch and Bilbo smirked before repeating the gesture a little more firmly. Thorin's breath left him in a shudder of desire.

"I swear Bilbo," he managed to gasp, his voice husky and deeper than normal—little more than a low vibration—with desire, "if you do that again I  _will not_  be held responsible for my reaction."

"Is that so?" Bilbo asked softly, leaning in to place his mouth next to Thorin's ear so that his warm breath ghosted over the flesh there causing the dwarf to quiver with desire. The challenge was evident in his tone and before Thorin could answer, Bilbo repeated his caress one more time. With a needy, almost primal, groan Thorin gathered both of Bilbo's hands in one of his own and spun the hobbit around before pressing him into the wall and leaning down to devour the side of his neck.

"You have no idea what you just did, Bilbo Baggins," Thorin whispered into the hobbit's pointed ear before his free hand began to roam freely over the pale soft skin of the hobbit he had pinned. Bilbo's only reply was a plaintive moan. Thorin had never been quite so rough with him before, and he was loving it. He had needed this for so long, there was no way that this mating was going to be gentle and he found that he couldn't care less.

Even the brief flare of pain that washed through him when Thorin's questing hand began to penetrate him did nothing to dampen his desire. He relaxed into the touch of the other and soon the pain faded and pleasure took its place, as he had known that it would. His head fell back against Thorin's chest as a cry that was equal parts pleasure and pain rose up his throat as a second finger was added. Still, the dwarf did not free his hands, rather he kept them pinned against the wall as he ran his nose along the part of Bilbo's jaw that he could reach only pausing to nip his ear and whisper what Bilbo could only assume were naughty things.

Passion seemed to have taken Thorin's ability to speak the common tongue and all that fell from his lips were fragments of Khuzdul. Even though Bilbo couldn't understand them, their intent was  _quite_  clear. They were words of praise, possession, desire and love. The tone in which they were spoken said what the words themselves did not. One was more prevalent than any other and even in his passion addled state Bilbo remembered it so that he could ask for a meaning later: Âzyungâl. That one word had such emotion behind it that Bilbo knew that it had to be important.

And then all possibility of conscious thought was gone. Thorin had removed his fingers and at the loss of the sensation, a needy, plaintive moan had risen from Bilbo's throat. The dwarf chuckled quietly before murmuring something else that Bilbo could not understand, but the intent had been clear. Thorin had asked for patience. Bilbo had none, but it didn't matter. There was the sound of rustling cloth and then Thorin was there. In him, filling him almost painfully, but Bilbo didn't care. He  _needed_ this. Thorin held still, trying not to hurt the hobbit below him, but Bilbo was having none of that. Even before the sensation of intrusion had faded, he had begun to move around Thorin, his impassioned cries begging the dwarf to do the same.

It was a request that Thorin was more than happy to oblige. He had never been able to stand it when Bilbo begged and especially not when it was in his power to give the hobbit what he wanted. At the wordless urging of Bilbo, Thorin set a punishing pace that soon had both of them panting and moaning in passion. He didn't slow down even once Bilbo's very breaths became little cries, so full of need, and the hobbit began to squirm, seeking greater friction as the end drew near. His movements made it unbearable for Thorin and he knew that if he didn't help Bilbo he would finish before the hobbit did. With a small smile, Thorin reached around the hobbit and ran one finger across the tip of his erection. That was all that it took to push him over the edge and with a loud cry, Bilbo reached completion. The sensation of the hobbit's inner walls convulsing around him was all that it took to pull Thorin over with Bilbo and he buried himself deeper within his lover as both a roar of completion and his seed left his body.

They stood motionless for some time, both enjoying the closeness that comes after such an intimate encounter. Eventually, with a pleased and sated sound in his throat Bilbo turned slightly and placed his cheek against Thorin's warm chest. The dwarf gasped at the movement, but smiled and released Bilbo's hands—which he had still had pinned to the wall—and used the hand that wasn't wrapped around the hobbit's waist to stroke the side of his face.

"I needed that," Bilbo sighed contentedly. Thorin laughed quietly in response.

"I think we  _both_  needed that," Thorin replied before slowly pulling out of Bilbo and beginning to rearrange his own clothing while Bilbo saw to his.

"Do you intend to repair this?" Thorin asked with a smirk as he showed Bilbo the rend in his undershirt that the hobbit had created while ripping his clothes from him.

"Only if you intend to re-sew the buttons  _you_  popped off," Bilbo replied with a smirk of his own, wincing slightly as he bent to retrieve his trousers. That was one thing that he had forgotten: the soreness that occasionally followed an unexpected coupling.

"I hurt you," Thorin said, sadness in his voice.

"No," Bilbo replied automatically. He shifted uncomfortably as he felt the dwarf's icy stare bore into him. Thorin could see that he had. Bilbo was moving far too gingerly. He felt shame wash through him. He should have known better than to let loose. Bilbo was a hobbit, not a dwarf. No matter what Bilbo continually insisted, hobbits were fragile creatures by comparison.

"You didn't," Bilbo said, trying to reassure the upset dwarf. "Not really. I'll be fine. It's just . . . it's been a  _very_  long time. I'll be alright." Thorin gave Bilbo a small smile in response but made a mental note to _never_ ravage Bilbo in an alleyway like this again.


	2. Traumatizing Dwalin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a chapter that was never meant to be written, but it was requested by ThePrincessDragon over on FF.net. She wanted to know what Bilbo and Thorin had been doing that traumatized Dwalin enough that he would still shudder at the mere mention of it sixty years later. . . so here it is! I hope that you enjoy!

Bilbo sighed as he sank to the ground not even bothering to sit on the log that had been drug over. He was exhausted. Everything ached and all he wanted to do was  _sit_  there and wait for dawn when the inevitable order to move out would come. He wasn't even sure that he had the energy to unpack his bedding. He might just wrap up in his blanket and sleep where he was. It was this exhaustion that led to his audible groan when he heard his name—or rather moniker, as his name wasn't actually "Halfling"—from his lover.

Rather than turn to face Thorin, as he should have given that not only was he his lover but also a king, Bilbo allowed his head to roll onto his shoulder and looked up at Thorin from a slightly sideways position with a clear expression of exasperation on his face.

"What?" Bilbo asked, his tone betraying his weariness. He wasn't a dwarf and he wasn't made for days on end spend hiking across broken terrain with a heavy pack and light rations. He admired their stamina but had long decided that it was just abnormal. At first he had believed that he would eventually grow accustomed to it, but now . . . he was just tired. Too tired to care how Thorin took his tone.

Thorin raised an eyebrow at his tone. He had never received exasperation from Bilbo. Anger, frustration, love, yes, but never exasperation. He knew that the hobbit was tired, but he wasn't aware that he was exhausted. It had been a short march that day and even though Bilbo hadn't noticed yet, much of the weight from Bilbo's pack had found its way into Thorin's own when he saw how Bilbo's shoulders had bowed under it.

"I require your assistance away from camp," Thorin said, trying to keep his voice level and at the same time convey the  _carnal_  nature of the assistance he was requesting. While they had made no secret of their relationship, he still remembered the anger he had awoken in Bilbo when he had just come out and said that he wanted to lay with him. It was not worth it.

"Tonight?" Bilbo asked, sounding almost distraught at the prospect. "Does it  _have_ to be now?"

"I believe that it does," Thorin replied, his voice steady as he surveyed the hobbit, wondering why he was so upset by the prospect. If his lingering glances and touches throughout the day were any indication, Bilbo needed this as much as he did if not more. Why would he be reluctant now?

Seeing the lust burning in his lover's blue eyes, Bilbo sighed before getting back on his feet with a groan. He didn't doubt that he would feel more relaxed after they were done, or that her would sleep more soundly that night, but the idea of leaving camp long enough to get far enough away that the others would not hear was not one that he relished.

"Lead on," Bilbo sighed, allowing Thorin to take his hand and lead him away from camp towards a stream they had seen a bit earlier. He knew that he could refuse if he truly wanted to, but that was part of what frustrated him so. Even though he was bone tired, he wanted—no  _needed_ —what Thorin was offering. It had been too long since their last coupling—during which things had gotten a little rough and they had decided to take time off for Bilbo's comfort—and he had been wanting this all day and had been trying to hint to Thorin what he wanted. Apparently the dwarf had gotten the message.

Even before they were out of sight of the others, the dwarf King had begun petting the hobbit in vaguely inappropriate ways paying special attention to his ears, knowing from experience the affect that had on Bilbo. Once the voices of the others faded, they continued walking for a bit longer, knowing that Thorin had a tendency to be rather loud (a habit that Bilbo was beginning to pick up on as well) before they stopped.

It was a good place for a tryst, the ground covered in soft moss that would provide them with comfort without causing them to have difficult to explain grass stains on their clothing—grass stains that the others only called them on to embarrass Bilbo. Bilbo smiled up at Thorin in approval of the location and pulled himself flush against the dwarf King, resting his head over the place where he knew that underneath his armor Thorin's heart beat. As he closed his eyes, he half-imagined that he could hear the steady pulse of life.

Thorin looked down at the hobbit, seeing the lines of exhaustion around his eyes and mouth. It saddened him to see Bilbo so tired. It was clear to him that the hobbit, despite the fact that he had proved himself  _quite_  useful, was not made for adventures. Though he couldn't bring himself to regret that he had come, if he hadn't have they would never have found what they now had.

"It doesn't have to be tonight," Thorin said quietly running a hand through Bilbo's soft curls. He wasn't sure how he had missed the utter exhaustion that plagued his hobbit. He had thought it mere weariness, something that a gentle bout of sex could cure, but this . . . sex, no matter how gentle, might be more than Bilbo could handle tonight.

"Yes it does," Bilbo replied looking back up at the dwarf, lust beginning to burn beneath the weariness present in his hazel eyes. The fact that Bilbo could still want him, even in the face of his own exhaustion, did unholy things to Thorin and with a predatory growl he bent and captured Bilbo's lips in a searing kiss—that the hobbit returned enthusiastically, his own hands threading into Thorin's hair and grasping at one of the clumsy braids he had put there the night before.

Dropping one of his hands from the dwarf's head, Bilbo began the arduous process of divesting Thorin of all the layers of clothing that the dwarf wore. "You know," Bilbo panted, breaking the kiss long enough to look down at what his fingers were trying to do, "if you would at least take a few layers off before these  _meetings_  things would go much more quickly."

"Perhaps," Thorin agreed, his blue eyes molten with lust as he watched the hobbit's nimble fingers untie the strings that held his bracers before beginning to work on the clasps of his armored shirt. "But then I am deprived of seeing you at work." Bilbo grumbled in response but there was a smile on his face as he undid the last clasp and helped Thorin out of the heavy garment followed by the padded shirt underneath and leaving the dwarf king in only his blue undershirt. A pleased smile crossed the hobbit's face as he looked at his lover in the moonlight.

"Have I ever told you just how fetching blue is on you?" Bilbo asked, his voice a purr and his eyes filled solely with lust. Thorin felt himself twitch painfully against the confines of his breaches at Bilbo's words.

"You haven't," the King replied, swallowing heavily.

"Well," Bilbo said, stroking the blue cloth covering Thorin's chest and grasping his shoulder for leverage so that he could stand on his toes to whisper in the taller dwarf's ear. He made sure to run his nose along Thorin's neck on his way up, enjoying the way his lover's throat worked at the contact.

"In that case," Bilbo whispered, loving the way the powerful dwarf king quivered at the warm breath in his ear, "I have been very lax in my role as a lover. I love you in blue. But for now I think I would rather see you out of it." A strangled moan followed his words and before he knew it, his own coat, waistcoat and shirt had joined Thorin's outer layers on the ground leaving him standing there in only his breaches. They didn't last much longer.

Thorin's strong, calloused hands quickly made their way down his body, the touch firm but not painfully so, and made short, if clumsy, work of the buttons holding up his trousers. Bilbo couldn't help the quiet laugh that rose up his throat at the frantic way Thorin fumbled with the buttons. Despite their size, the dwarf's fingers were adept at small tasks like braids and buttons. It was a mark of how aroused he was that he was having difficulty with them.

"My, you're eager tonight, My King," Bilbo taunted, knowing full well what it did to Thorin when he addressed him so.

"I'm not the only one," Thorin growled, gesturing with his head at the  _obvious_  sign of Bilbo's arousal.

"I never said that you were," Bilbo countered as he undid the buckles that held Thorin's pants up. It was another mark of their different cultures, small things like buttons versus buckles, shoes or not, and even more important thing, but at times like this, when desire rode them heavily, these things fell by the wayside, inconsequential. Once the clothing was gone, they were no longer a burglar and a king, or even a hobbit and a dwarf, they were just Bilbo and Thorin. Nothing else mattered.

As Bilbo's hands worked to rid them of the last encumbering garments, his hands roamed freely over his lover's well-muscled flesh, pausing only to kneed the muscles where he found knots that had been placed there by travel or stress. While he was relearning the planes of Thorin's body, the dwarf was treating him in the same manner, stroking, teasing, arousing, and soothing all at the same time.

As Bilbo's hands moved south, they encountered flesh that, while muscled, was not as firm as the rest. The relative softness awoke a desire in him, a dirty thought that had popped up on occasion but had been rapidly, and viciously, tamped down each time. There was no way that Thorin would allow it. But that night it refused to be dismissed and before he knew what was happening, Bilbo found the words leaving his mouth.

"Thorin," he heard himself say, noting absently the breathlessness of his own voice, "do you think that tonight I might—I mean—would you let me . . . I would like to—just this once. Please?"

"What are you wanting to ask for, Bilbo?" Thorin questioned, his voice little more than a whisper as his kissed a line of fire along the hobbit's neck. "You know that I would deny you nothing. Just ask?"

"Well, can we . . . that is to say," Bilbo stuttered before he squinted his eyes and just blurted it out. "Tonight I would like to be the one to take rather than be taken." Thorin blinked for a moment, stunned into silence, his lips paused midkiss. No one had ever . . . he'd never allowed anyone to . . . but it was  _Bilbo_ , surely he could . . . could he allow it?

"Never mind!" Bilbo said shaking his head, his face red with embarrassment. He couldn't believe that he had actually  _asked_! Thorin was going to be upset with him. There was no way that he would let Bilbo do _that_! He was only a hobbit after all. Not even a dwarf. And a contracted burglar . . . more like  _bungler_ with the mess he kept making of things!

"Forget I said anything!" Bilbo ordered, burying his face in his lover's chest. Even if Thorin was too shocked to wrap his arms around Bilbo, at least he wasn't shoving him away. That was something.

"No," Thorin said, his voice a quiet rumble that vibrated through Bilbo and made him shiver with desire even though he knew that nothing would happen that night after what he had just done, "I won't forget it." Bilbo felt his heart sink. He had known that Thorin would be angry, but too angry to yell angry? He cursed his foolish tongue.

"Do you . . . would that truly make you happy? If I was to allow it, just this once?" Thorin asked, his words hesitant as though he almost couldn't believe what he was saying himself. Bilbo couldn't find his voice, but looked up at Thorin, his hazel eyes sad, hopeful and filled with lust at the same time and nodded.

"I'm curious as to what it's like," Bilbo explained. "It'd just be the once, I promise. I'll never ask again." Thorin nodded, leaning down to kiss the hobbit gently on the lips. He could deny the small, sweet being in his arms nothing. If Bilbo needed this, Thorin would let him have it. No one would ever know that the king had allowed the hobbit to take him and it was truly none of their business anyway. And, as Bilbo had said, it would only be the once.

"If it will satisfy your curiosity," Thorin said, cupping the hobbit's beardless cheek gently and smiling as the hobbit leaned into the touch, "then I will allow it. Tonight, and only tonight, you may . . . you may take your pleasure from me, Bilbo Baggins. I will submit to you." Now it was Bilbo's turn to blink owlishly. Whatever he had been expecting Thorin to say it hadn't been  _that_.

"What?" Bilbo asked, needing to hear it again just to make sure that he wasn't mistaken. There was no way that Thorin had just said what he thought that he had. It was impossible. There was no way that the King of the dwarves was going to allow him to do  _that_.

"I said that I will grant your request," Thorin replied, falling on propriety despite the fact that neither of them had a stitch on. "Tonight you may do with my body what you wish." His chest was heaving, and his pulse speeding at his own pronouncement. Never had Thorin expected that he would submit himself to another, lest of all a  _hobbit_ , but somehow he knew that this was something that he needed to do. The joy that lit Bilbo's hazel eyes warmed his heart and reassured him that he had made the right decision. And once it was done, it would never happen, nor be spoken of, again. No one else would ever know.

**ooOO88OOoo**

Back at camp, Dwalin was beginning to grow restless. Something felt off to him, it had all day. He had almost felt as though they were being watched, followed. Something in the very air bothered him. He couldn't explain it and he didn't dare tell the others until he was sure. It would do no good to raise a false alarm, though he did intend to speak with Thorin about doubling the watch when the King returned. Until then, he would patrol. Even if there was nothing there, it would help ease his nerves to move.

He stood, checking that his axes were in their holders before he headed out of camp, back in the direction that they had come from to check if there was anything out of the ordinary following in their wake.

"Mister Dwalin," Kíli called as the older dwarf left the circle of firelight, "where are you going?"

"Scouting," the warrior replied.

"But why are you going that way?" Kíli asked pressing the dwarf for an answer. He wasn't sure if Dwalin was aware, but that was the direction that his uncle and Bilbo had gone and he was fairly certain that they would not welcome company.

"Because it's the way I feel like going," Dwalin replied, his tone showing that he thought it was a stupid question and that he was only deigning to answer because of who had asked it.

"But—" Kíli began only to be cut off by Fíli's hand over his mouth. He turned his head, looking at his brother with his brown eyes narrowed in indignation at being silenced in such a manner only to see that Fíli's blue eyes were sparkling with mischief.

"Let him go," Fíli whispered conspiratorially. "If he didn't pay attention to the direction they took when they left he deserves what he gets. Besides, if you remember, Kíli, Dwalin was the one that failed to warn us that Uncle and Bilbo had gone to the stream together and allowed  _us_  to walk in on them. It's our turn to return the favor."

At his words, Kíli smiled predatorily. Fíli was right. It was Dwalin's turn to get an eyeful. He found that he could only hope that the two of them were up to something particularly wicked.

**ooOO88OOoo**

Little did Kíli know that "wicked" barely described what they were up to. True to his word, Thorin had allowed Bilbo complete control, doing as the hobbit asked of him and allowing Bilbo liberties he had never allowed another, though he couldn't help but give directions as to how Bilbo should go about it.

"Bilbo, you're going to have to—" Thorin was saying. So far Bilbo had taken the King's "guidance" well, but it was beginning to grate. He understood that Thorin was out of his comfort zone and was trying to cling to some semblance of control, which is why he had let him do it, but his patience was about to reach its end. He had been on the receiving end of this many times. He knew what worked and what didn't and if Thorin would be silent for a few moments, perhaps he would enjoy himself.

"Are you going to let me do this my way or not, Thorin Oakenshield?" Bilbo snapped. He felt the king flinch at his words. Thorin nodded, properly embarrassed that he had gone against his word and determined that not another sound would pass his lips. It was a promise that not even his iron will was not able to keep. Thorin had been right about the dexterity of Bilbo's slim fingers and before he knew it, the hobbit's touch, and sinfully skilled mouth, had little sounds of pleasure rising up his throat. He lost himself in that touch, so much so that he didn't notice when Bilbo began preparing him to be taken.

All he knew was that the pleasure that was already beginning to wrack his body intensified suddenly. It was only when a second finger was added and Bilbo began stretching him that he realized what was happening, but with the way Bilbo's other hand continued to roam over his skin working in tandem with his mouth as a distraction he couldn't bring himself to care about the fact that he was about to be penetrated for the first time in his life. Especially if the hobbit was  _anywhere_  near as skilful in that area as he was with his fingers. And that thought embarrassed him to no end.

He, Thorin son of Thráin son of Thror, King of the Dwarves and rightful heir or Erebor, was coming undone under the hands and tongue of a  _hobbit_. It was unheard of! If his father or grandfather could see him now they would be beyond disappointed. Kings did not submit. Had he not learned that from a young age? And yet here he was, on the forest floor about to be taken by a hobbit! He was ashamed to have agreed to this, and then Bilbo brushed against something deep inside him and he saw stars. He knew that there was something there; he had seen the reaction in his lovers when he had touched it, but he had no idea that it felt like  _that_. He wasn't sure, but he knew that he must have made a noise of some kind because Bilbo laughed quietly before brushing against it again, his fingers stroking it, wrenching a cry of pleasure from Thorin's throat. He could feel his muscles beginning to twitch. This pleasure, it bordered on pain and he knew that if Bilbo kept that up he would not last and that thought shamed him. He _had_  to be able to outlast the hobbit. He had to. His pride demanded it.

Thankfully, Bilbo was merciful and removed his fingers with another small laugh. He knew  _exactly_ what he had just done to the dwarf and seeing such a powerful being coming so completely undone by his hands had a heady effect on the hobbit. Maybe, just maybe, if he did this well enough he would not have to break his promise. Perhaps  _Thorin_  would ask him to do it again. It was this thought that encouraged Bilbo to be creative. Despite what he had said, he had come to realize that once would never be enough. Now all he had to do was convince his stubborn dwarf of a lover of that fact. Thinking that Thorin had had enough time to recompose himself, Bilbo reentered his fingers. This was Thorin's first time, after all, and they had no oil—having used all of Thorin's supply of leather oil already. If he wasn't going to hurt the dwarf so that he forbade this ever happening again thorough preparation was necessary.

Thorin moaned as Bilbo began again, his body hitching in pain as the hobbit added a third finger.

"I'm sorry," Bilbo said, leaning in to kiss the side of Thorin's neck just above his pulse point. "I wish I could make this easier for you. But we—"

"Look in my coat pocket," Thorin panted, his voice husky with the force of his own pleasure.

"What?" Bilbo asked quietly but did as Thorin had said, finding a small vial of oil there. "But how?"

"Stole it from Fíli," Thorin replied with a smirk that made him look younger and reminded Bilbo of the smirk that his nephews so often wore. "He'll never miss it. Besides, I felt that he owed us for the interruption at the stream." Bilbo shook his head indulgently, aroused more by the quaver in Thorin's voice than he would ever admit, and returned to his lover's side, capturing his mouth in a declaration of intent before coating his fingers and resuming his previous attentions.

"And I thought that I was supposed to be the burglar in this pair," Bilbo muttered affectionately as he nibbled Thorin's ear to distract him.

"I told you that you are more of a grocer than a burglar," Thorin replied cheekily. Rather than reply, Bilbo brushed his fingers along  _that_  spot once more causing the dwarf to arch against him with a wanton moan. Thorin wanted to  _beg_ —whether for Bilbo to quit or to do it again he wasn't sure—but he refused to lower himself to begging. He still had some standards after all. Even if it was hard for him to remember that in the face of the evil things that Bilbo was doing to him with just his fingers.

Apparently deciding that Thorin was as ready for this as he was going to get, Bilbo withdrew his fingers before coating himself with oil and preparing to take the King. He laid Thorin on his side, running one of his legs between the King's and curling the other under himself.

"Are you sure?" Bilbo asked one more time. So far nothing had truly happened. Thorin could still change his mind and honestly say that no one had ever taken him. His only reply was a curt nod. Bilbo smiled slightly and began to enter his lover, stroking his back and whispering soothing things to him as Thorin had done the first time he had taken Bilbo. At the first sign of intrusion, Thorin had clamped down, but slowly, Bilbo felt him relax and pushed a little further inside. Thorin made a small sound of discomfort, but said nothing to stop him and eventually Bilbo was completely in.

He almost wished that he had picked a position where he could better see Thorin's face, but was also glad that he hadn't. Bilbo wasn't sure that he could bear the discomfort that he knew would be there. He was beginning to regret making his request. Aside from a few moans early on, Thorin did not seem to be enjoying this. He hadn't seemed to mind the fingers, but as soon as Bilbo had actually begun to take him, all signs of pleasure had vanished. The hobbit sat there, feeling miserable that he was enjoying something that Thorin was clearly not.

Then the king shifted his hips experimentally and Bilbo felt a moan of his own rise up his throat. The feeling of being  _inside_  someone else as they moved . . . he had no idea it would feel like this. It was amazing. And with that thought, his guilt only intensified.

Surprisingly, Thorin was having similar thoughts, well not the guilt, but there was some measure of shame mixed in with surprised amazement. When it had first begun, he had wondered why Bilbo seemed to enjoy this so much. It felt strange, intrusive even, and his body wanted to resist the foreign object. He hadn't liked it. But for his hobbit . . . for Bilbo he would endure it. And then the sense of intrusion had faded and left in its wake a sense of being filled and what he could only describe as . . . pleasure. It was a pleasant feeling. He had shifted his hips experimentally, as all of his past lovers had, and was delighted by the sensation of movement. It was then that he understood.

Taking Thorin's movement as an invitation, Bilbo pulled slowly out and began to set a gentle, slow pace that had a moan coming from both of them. Neither had expected the feelings that were now coursing through them. It was strange, a different feeling than the one they were used to, but it was wonderful all the same. Soon, they were both panting and moaning from the sensations, skin shining with sweat in the moonlight. It was then that Bilbo had his most ingenious idea to date.

"Stay calm," he whispered in his lover's ear, "I have an idea." He had hoped for some kind of a reply, but Thorin was too far gone for coherent thought and all he received was a strangled moan that he decided to take as an agreement. Carefully, gently, he wrapped his body around Thorin, trying to keep the same rhythm he had started, and closed his mouth over the tip of Thorin's erection. He was rewarded with a bellow from the dwarf as he bucked his hips at the newest source of stimulation, his eyes wide and unseeing in the face of his own pleasure.

Feeling another grin split his face, Bilbo swirled his tongue around the head, enjoying the way the muscles of Thorin's stomach rippled as he fought to maintain the control that he had long since lost. When Bilbo sucked slightly, he was rewarded with another cry from the dwarf and Thorin clinching around him. It was pleasure and pain rolled into one and a Bilbo arched his own back, a loud cry tumbling from his mouth to mingle with Thorin's. His thrusts becoming momentarily erratic before he regained control and resumed his previous position, both penetrating and being penetrated at the same time.

It was like this that Dwalin found them a short time later. He had heard both of their cries. They sounded like they were in pain. He knew—everyone knew—why they had left camp the way they had, but these sounded like no cries of passion that he had ever heard before. And when combined with the feeling of unease that had plagued him, he knew that his king and the hobbit had to have been set upon by orcs or worse while they were preoccupied and would need help. He couldn't even remember if Thorin had taken his sword.

With this in mind, Dwalin drew his axes and charged into the clearing, a battle cry on his lips, prepared to deliver bloody death to all that moved that wasn't dwarf or hobbit. What he saw would scar him for life. Instead of a bloody battle, he saw a tangle of limbs in the moonlight. The pale, hairless flesh contorted unnaturally around the tanned, hair-covered flesh of his King. The hobbit was clearly taking the king, there could be no other explanation for the position they were in, but he was also . . . how was  _that_  even possible!?

At his battle cry they both looked up at him, hazel and blue eyes clouded with passion to the point of almost being unseeing and Bilbo's lips obscenely puffy due to the abuse they had suffered through his own choices and what could only be the evidence of Thorin's enjoyment covering them.

"Dwalin," Bilbo said, his breathing hitched and his face flushed from exertion and the pleasure that came from the orgasm he had just experienced and that he had caused Thorin to experience as well, "what are you doing here?"

Rather than reply, the warrior simply turned and walked away shaking his head. Here he had thought that hobbits had some shame but Bilbo . . . he hadn't even been embarrassed in the slightest. It had almost been like Dwalin had walked in on him making breakfast not fucking the king. At that thought, the memory of the position they had been in crossed his mind again and Dwalin shuddered. Where on _earth_  had Bilbo learned  _that_? He had thought that hobbits were prude but . . .

His thoughts carried him back to camp where he resumed his place by the fire and stared into it with unseeing haunted eyes, the occasional shudder wracking his large frame as the mental image resurfaced.

"Perhaps we should have stopped him after all," Fíli said watching the hardened warrior shudder by the fire. "He seems traumatized. I wonder what Uncle was doing to poor Bilbo."

"I don't," Kíli replied with a shudder of his own. "If it's bad enough to traumatize  _Dwalin_  I'm content to remain in the dark." It was an idea that was solidified when his uncle and Bilbo retuned a short time later, settling themselves as far from Dwalin as they could. If Kíli or the others noticed that Thorin's majestic gait had a bit of a hitch in it that night no one said anything.

Additionally, Dwalin never told a soul about what he had seen that night. And if he occasionally found himself unable to look at Bilbo or Thorin, no one asked him why. Like Kíli, if what he had seen would traumatize Dwalin no one else wanted to share the memory. One notable exception was Thorin and Bilbo. Even though it had started out as a onetime thing, the topic did eventually get revisited on the condition that no one  _else_  found out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we are all, one giant ball of smut for your reading pleasure. I hope that you enjoyed it and would love to hear what you thought! and if there is anything in particular that you would like to see, feel free to request it!


	3. Bilbo and Thorin's First Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was another that was never supposed to be written, but it was requested by a very loyal reader (SherlockedinErebor from FF.net) so I just had to do it! I hope that you enjoy it!

Thorin sighed contentedly. They had come across a stream that day and while they had been exploring it they discovered that it had clearings, rooms almost, separated by dense undergrowth that would give the allusion of privacy. He had claimed one of these and had taken advantage of the privacy to remove his clothing and wash the stench of sweat, blood, and yes, even fear, from them and himself. They were currently hanging to dry and he, well he had stretched himself out in a beam of sunlight coming through the trees and was allowing it to keep him warm rather than fabric and fur.

He smiled as he heard the bright voices of his nephews moving along the path behind him. They knew where he was and would not invade his privacy, but all the same, he was glad that they were within earshot. Those boys were entirely too reckless for their own good. He was even more happy when he heard the higher pitch of the hobbit's voice. He was a bit relieved that he was with the boys. Even though Bilbo had been lucky so far and had escaped unscathed from battles he was no warrior and for all their recklessness and youth his nephews were skilled fighters.

The others could all take care of themselves, but it comforted him that the three beings that mattered the most to him were together would look out for one another if the need arose. With another contented sigh, Thorin lay back on the grass and laced his fingers behind his head, content to let the sunlight caress him. He had just closed his eyes, when they shot open once more at a high squeak from the direction of the path. He rolled up on one elbow and turned to see a very startled and very flustered hobbit standing there staring at him.

"Thorin, I-I'm sorry—the boys—your—Fíli and Kíli told me that this clearing was unoccupied," Bilbo finally managed to say. Thorin raised an eyebrow at the statement. His nephews knew that he had been here. Why had they told Bilbo that it was empty? Surely they had only done it to tempt him. "But I see that it's not so I'll just—"

"Stay," Thorin said rolling back onto his back and closing his eyes once more trying to put out of his mind what his nephews may have intended. "Your presence does not disturb me."

"Are-are you sure?" Bilbo stuttered. "I mean I can go and try to find another—"

"Stay, Halfling," Thorin sighed. "There is room enough here for the both of us." He heard Bilbo sigh but the hobbit said nothing else. The next sound that Thorin heard was the gentle splash as Bilbo began washing his clothes in the stream. Perhaps Gandalf had been on to something with the stealth of hobbits. Thorin hadn't heard him cross the clearing.

Bilbo tried, oh how he tried, to focus on washing his clothing but it was impossible to focus on that task when his eyes kept being drawn to the naked dwarf on the other side of the clearing. Thorin was _sprawled_  out on the grass, seemingly uncaring about the fact that he was as naked as the day he was born. Not that he should. He had been here first. If Bilbo couldn't keep his eyes to himself that was his problem. Or so the hobbit tried to tell himself.

He also tried to convince himself that he only kept looking because it was so unexpected. He had seen all the other dwarves in various states of undress—much to his embarrassment—but never Thorin. Seeing the king without his furs was a rare thing even. He supposed—or tried to suppose—that he was only stealing glances because he was shocked at the fact that Thorin was naked. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he was attractive, even if the hair that coated his body was a bit strange. Even the king being lightly furred did nothing to stop the desire that arose in Bilbo. Desire that was _wrong_. So wrong. Even if Thorin wasn't a king, he was still a dwarf, and a male. It. Was. Wrong.

Everything Bilbo had ever known told him that it was wrong and he hated himself for the feelings that he couldn't control. So he told himself that if his eyes lingered too long, or his hands ached to brush Thorin's hair from his face, it was just gratitude. Comradely feelings. The others touched, true they were siblings or cousins, but casual contact was not uncommon among dwarves. Was it truly that strange that Bilbo would pick up that trait? It had nothing to do with the way Thorin's eyes shone. So what if he didn't feel the need to touch any of the others? That meant nothing.

So what if at night he dreamed of the King saying some sweet thing that would never pass his lips in life? If Bilbo imagined his lips on Thorin's as the king led him somewhere private? What did it matter if even the thought of those large calloused hands on his body caused inappropriate stirrings in his loins that had led to a couple of uncomfortable mornings with whichever of the dwarves had decided to cuddle him the night before and leaving him thankful that he didn't talk in his sleep? His dreams never went any farther than heavy petting. He had no idea what would follow. Sex was not talked about in the Shire, and homosexual sex . . . it was taboo. Even so . . . he sighed as he snuck another glance at the dwarf.

"Are you enjoying the view?" Thorin asked, humor in his voice. Feeling shocked and embarrassed to have been caught staring, Bilbo quickly flashed his eyes up to the king's face, seeing a soft smile there and blue eyes sparkling with mirth.

"I-I . . . I'm sorry!" Bilbo squeaked. "I should-shouldn't have been staring. It's just that—"  _Kindly shut up, Bilbo!_  His mind yelled at him. For once he listened, turning away and wringing out his jacket and vest before hanging them over a nearby tree to dry. He jumped as he felt the hands of the dwarf King come down gently on his shoulders and turn him to face Thorin with gentle, yet inescapable, pressure.

"This is not the first time that I have caught you staring at me," Thorin said, his tone giving no indication as to how he felt about that fact. "Tell me, do you desire me?"

Bilbo froze at the question. It was so  _direct_! Surely Thorin didn't . . . he couldn't  _know_  how Bilbo felt about him. He felt a flush creep up his face betraying his thoughts. The king continued to stare at him, his blue gaze boring into the hobbit as though attempting to read his answer written in his soul. Then with a small smile and a snort of a laugh the king spoke.

"I thought as much," he said. Bilbo hung his head in shame. He couldn't believe that he had been found out.  _Having_  inappropriate feelings was one thing. Having someone else—especially the someone they were directed towards—know about them . . . that was something else entirely. He saw Thorin raise his hand out of the corner of his eyes and flinched. Even though he had never seen the king strike a member of the company, none of them as good as admitted that they desired him. But the blow never came.

Instead, Thorin's hand moved forward and he stroked Bilbo's jaw with the side if his index finger, surprised to feel downy hair there that he was unable to see. The hobbit was not beardless, not entirely, it was just colorless. Bilbo shivered at the touch and pulled away to look up at the king, hurt clear in his eyes. He just knew that Thorin was making fun of him. The king was not gentle, and this touch clearly was. There was no other explanation. But Thorin's eyes were soft as well. Bilbo decided that it had been a touch of pity then.

"Thorin, I—that is to say . . . I know that—" Bilbo tried to apologize but his words were cut off as the dwarf King seized his chin and captured his mouth in a searing kiss. He gave a startled cry as the move almost knocked him off his feet—literally—and grasped desperately for purchase on the shoulders of the dwarf that was currently plundering his mouth. Once he felt steady once more, the clinging hands began to push gently, trying to end the kiss so that he could figure out what  _exactly_  was going on. Even though Bilbo stood no chance of dislodging the king on his own, Thorin felt the pressure and pulled away to stare down at the hobbit.

"Thorin . . . what—I mean . . . why—wha-what was that?" Bilbo demanded, his voice high, almost panicked. The hobbit looked distraught, almost as though he was about to cry. Thorin sighed. He hadn't meant to upset Bilbo. He had meant to show him that his affections were not one-sided. He had figured that this was a matter for actions rather than words, but now . . . now he had to try to explain both his feelings and his actions.

"That was a kiss, Master Hobbit," Thorin replied coolly, his embarrassment bleeding into distance. Bilbo had rejected him.

"I know that!" Bilbo snapped, some of his fire and sarcasm returning as he recovered from his shock. "What I meant was, why did you do it? Why did you kiss me?"

"I had thought that it would be clear," Thorin replied narrowing his eyes at such an inane question. "Kisses may take various forms, but among dwarves a kiss like that only means one thing." Bilbo felt himself flush at the words. A kiss like that only meant one thing among hobbits as well. He just had to wonder if it was the same thing.

"And what would that be, pray tell?" Bilbo asked, his voice choked as he demanded the answer that might seal his doom. It was one thing if he only desired Thorin, things changed if Thorin desired him in return. And not necessarily for the better.

"Among dwarves," Thorin replied, his voice growing husky at the look of forlorn hope in Bilbo's eyes as he looked up at him through his hair, "such a kiss is a declaration of intent. I desire you, Bilbo Baggins, and if you will allow me to do so, I will show you the pleasures that such desire can lead to." He lifted one of the hobbit's hands from his shoulder, surprised at how soft and thin the skin was there, barely thick enough to protect the delicate bones underneath. He hadn't expected that. Perhaps this was a bad idea. He hadn't expected the hobbit to be so fragile, thin skin over small bones. But if he was careful, there was no reason they could not enjoy one another.

"I will be gentle with you," Thorin purred. "I swear it." Bilbo felt himself melt at the words. He had never—even in his most ludicrous dreams—imagined that Thorin was capable of  _purring_. He felt a small strangled moan rise up his throat at the words.

"Was that a 'yes'?" the dwarf asked nuzzling Bilbo's wrist, his beard scraping the skin there. "Will you let me show you pleasure?" Bilbo let out another strangled cry that could have either meant that he wanted Thorin to stop or to continue.

"I require a verbal response," the King muttered as he leaned in, taking in the scent of the hobbit's hair as he whispered in his ear. "I would have you, Bilbo Baggins, if you would accept me."

"You say that you . . . you desire me," Bilbo said, stepping back in an attempt to clear his mind by getting fresh air, it didn't help as it brought more of the dwarf into his field of view. "What-what does that mean? Exactly?"

"I find your company pleasant," Thorin replied looking at Bilbo as though he had asked a stupid question. "As well as your form. I desire you. The statement is fairly self-explanatory."

"What about me do you desire?" Bilbo pressed. He would not agree to anything until he knew what he was agreeing to and perhaps not even then. His Baggins side was insisting that what he was contemplating was to vile to bear consideration, but his Took side—and his hormones—begged to differ. If Thorin could find the right words, Bilbo would allow it—even relish in it.

At this question, Thorin smiled wryly. He hadn't figured the hobbit to be one for dirty talk before intercourse, but if that was what he needed, Thorin was more than willing to oblige. He had spent far too much time imagining what Bilbo would look like in the throes of passion had no objection to sharing his vision.

"What do I desire?" Thorin asked, stepping back into Bilbo's space and leaning down so there was only inches between them, his blue eyes burning with unbridled lust and his voice little more than a dark whisper. "I desire to see you writhing under me in ecstasy as I take you. I desire to see you undone by my hands. I desire to hear my name on your lips as you fall into the abyss of pleasure. I desire to see the flush of completion on your face and your curls plastered to your face through our exertions. I desire much of you, my Burglar. All that you have to give and more."

At Thorin's words and his tone, Bilbo felt heat begin to unfurl within him and he let out a small moan. He swallowed deeply trying to bring his hormones back under his control. That was  _not_  what he had meant. He had wanted to know something different, though he couldn't honestly say that he did not like the answer.

"And what about after?" Bilbo asked, embarrassed at the breathlessness of his own voice. "Once you have taken your pleasure from me, what then? What else do you desire of me?"

"I assure you," Thorin promised, the purr back and sending shivers up Bilbo's spine, "I will not be the only one to achieve pleasure if you accept me. And what do I desire outside of carnal relations? I desire _you_. Your sharp tongue and wit. Your good humor. Your warmth in my bed. I desire everything that you would give me, including your love. This is not a onetime thing between us. Were it merely that I would never have approached you, despite what your glances have done to me."

"While dwarves may have no problem with casual sex, I have seen your discomfort at the lewd statements of the company," Thorin explained. "I would not venture to even suggest this if I was not  _unnaturally_ fond of you. I promise, I will not take anything from you that you do not desire to give and you will face no consequences for refusing me. What say you? Will you let me show you the pleasures of making love?"

Bilbo looked at Thorin, desire and propriety warring for dominance in his mind. He wanted this. Oh how he wanted it! He wanted to tell Thorin to do what he wished, use him as he saw fit, but some part of his mind (the Baggins part most likely, though it was possible that even the Took part was siding with it at the moment) argued that Thorin had used the appropriate word: unnatural. That's what this attraction was: unnatural.

"We're both males," Bilbo said almost desperately.

"Yes," Thorin agreed. He knew that Bilbo was a male hobbit, even though he had never seen a female hobbit. He also didn't understand why Bilbo felt the need to tell him. There was no reason that two males could not take pleasure in one another. In his experience, which he had to admit was limited in the female department due to the shortage of dwarf women, males provided the best partners as they knew how best to please another with the same anatomy they themselves possessed. There was nothing about Bilbo being male that would discourage him.

"That doesn't bother you?" Bilbo asked, knowing that he might be asking the question that ended this all or escalated it, depending on Thorin's answer.

"No," the King replied. "Dwarves do not place regulations on this about that. Two males, a male and a female, even two females—though that rarely happens—the sex of the participants is irrelevant. Pleasure is not dependent on that." He saw Bilbo shift uncomfortably at his answer and was thankful that he hadn't also mentioned that the  _number_  didn't particularly matter in casual sex either. The hobbit had known that the dwarves were more  _open_  about sex than hobbits, but he hadn't realized it extended quite so far.

"It bothers you that you desire me," Thorin said sudden understanding dawning within him. Bilbo wasn't asking all these questions to see if Thorin was sure, it was to convince himself that this was acceptable. "Why? Is something about me offensive to you?"

"Hobbits . . . we don't . . . we're both  _male_ ," Bilbo gasped out tears coming to his eyes as he gave voice to his deepest fear about himself. "It's wrong, this  _need_. I shouldn't  _want_  you. It's unnatural. I'm unnatural."

"No," Thorin disagreed, placing a finger under the hobbit's chin to lift his face, his heart breaking at the self-loathing in Bilbo's hazel eyes. He didn't realize that Bilbo had been struggling like this. If he had known he would have spoken with the hobbit sooner. "There is nothing unnatural about this or about you."

"But we're both male," Bilbo argued repeating the condemnations he had chastised himself with many times. "And you're a  _dwarf_. I'm a hobbit. I should desire some hobbit lass, not a dwarf King. It's not right. It-it's  _wrong._ "

Rather than reply, Thorin threaded his fingers into Bilbo's hair and brought his mouth down to the hobbit's in a gentle kiss. Bilbo didn't pull away, but his tears didn't stop either. When he felt himself return the kiss, he began to sob quietly. He knew that it was wrong, but it felt so  _right_. Why couldn't it just . . . why did it have to be this way?

Eventually Thorin broke the kiss and pulled back to look at Bilbo once more. He brought a hand up and gently brushed the tears from the hobbit's cheek with the calloused pad of his thumb.

"Did that feel wrong?" Thorin asked. Bilbo shook his head miserably. "Then why would you deny yourself happiness?"

"The others—" Bilbo began thinking of home and what the residents of Hobbiton would think of the son of Belladona Took and Bungo Baggins engaging in lewd acts with a male dwarf.

"Will not care," Thorin replied thinking that Bilbo meant the company. The others knew how Thorin felt about Bilbo and how Bilbo felt about Thorin. Other than questioning their leader's sanity in wanting a beardless mate, they had no objections.

"Back home I mean," Bilbo clarified. "If they ever found out . . . I could never show my face in public again!"

"If that poses such a problem, you never have to return," Thorin offered quietly. "Once we have reclaimed Erebor you are welcome to remain there, even if it is not as my lover. Even if we are not together, it would please me to have you nearby and even without my influence to ensure the others welcome you, you will have earned a place there in your own right. And you will be wealthy enough that you will never have to work if you do not wish to."

At the offer, Bilbo felt his reasons to not do this begin to crumble. Thorin didn't think him unnatural; he wanted him to stay with them, despite the secretive nature of the dwarves. "Are you sure?" Bilbo asked quietly, his voice uncertain as he waffled between what he wanted and what he knew was right—and at the moment desire was winning.

"My dear hobbit," Thorin said, smiling down at him, "I would like nothing better than for you to stay with me forever. And I do not only speak for myself. The others have grown rather attached to you as well. It would pain them for you to return home. If you wish to stay you are more than welcome. I would have you happy." He watched as the sadness in Bilbo's eyes faded as he realized that he could stay with them and that no one there would look down on him for his desires: desires he could not ignore any longer. Thorin watched as the hobbit swallowed firmly before looking up at him, determination burning in his hazel eyes.

"In that case," Bilbo said suddenly, the words coming out in a tumble as though he was afraid that if he did not say them quickly they would stick in his throat, "I will consent to be your lover." Thorin smiled, a warm, affectionate thing, before he bent and kissed the side of Bilbo's neck tenderly.

"You will not regret this decision, Bilbo Baggins," Thorin promised. "I will be good to you both in and out of bed. I swear it." Bilbo tried to think of a reply, but Thorin lightly nipped his neck, sending a shiver down his side and a moan up his throat. He felt the dwarf smile against his skin.

"You make such sweet little noises," Thorin commented as he undid the first button of Bilbo's shirt and explored the skin the act revealed with his tongue, teeth and lips. "We haven't even begun yet." The second button soon followed and the newly revealed skin was treated in the same manner, none of it left unexplored or unworshiped. Every button that followed was the same, leaving Thorin surprised by the lack of hair on the hobbit. He had expected there to be some, but his chest was actually barer than his face. With a rush of curiosity Thorin wondered if his entire body was as bare or if he had pubic hair. He couldn't imagine what a bare nether region would look like and wondered if he was about to see for himself. But there would be time for that later.

He gently slid his hands under the opened fabric and guided it from Bilbo's shoulders, leaving the hobbit's pale skin bare in the sunlight that surrounded them. Bilbo instinctively tried to cover his nakedness, but Thorin's gentle touch on his wrists stilled him. At the unspoken appreciation in the King's eyes, Bilbo allowed him to move his hands and study him. The hobbit squirmed a little under the intensity of the King's scrutiny but made no move to block his view again, but rather studied Thorin's face, watching the soft emotions play across his face, strange but not unpleasant.

Thorin had to admit that he was surprised. In all his fantasizing he had made one crucial error. He had thought that under his clothing Bilbo would look like a dwarf, furred skin over hard muscles over thick bones, but Bilbo had none of those things. The hobbit was smooth, the skin on his torso as soft and thin as the skin on his hands, maybe even more so. It was also clear to the dwarf, even without pressing on them, that his bones there were no more sturdy than the small bones of his hand had been and there was very little muscle between them and his skin. With a rush of guilt, Thorin wondered f the hobbit was getting sufficient food and made a mental note to observe the portions that evening.

Bilbo had seen Thorin's eyebrows come together slightly at that last thought and believed it to be because the King was displeased with what he saw. Again his hands moved to cover his nakedness. He should have known that this was how something like this would end. He had been rejected. It was no more than he deserved for his unnatural attraction.

As the hobbit's hands came back into his view, Thorin glanced up at him in curiosity. He was surprised to see the hurt and self-loathing contained in Bilbo's face. He couldn't understand what had caused it. Bilbo had been fine moments ago. The dwarf reached out to touch his cheek, but Bilbo turned away from his hand.

"I'm sorry," the hobbit whispered. "You don't have to say it. I'll just gather up my things and go." Thorin wondered why Bilbo thought that he needed to leave, but the hobbit wasn't done yet and his next words explained it all.

"I should have known that you would never find me attractive," Bilbo said, looking back at Thorin with a sad smile. "I'm just the useless hobbit. I should have known better than to hope. Why would someone like you want someone as worthless as me?" As he turned to walk away, he felt Thorin grab his wrist and almost sobbed. Why couldn't the dwarf just let him leave and go lick his wounds in peace?

"Bilbo," the King ordered quietly. "Look at me." With a sob, Bilbo did. He couldn't deny Thorin anything. "You are not useless. You have proven your worth to us all, you are many things, Bilbo Baggins, worthless is not one of them. And I do not find you unattractive," Thorin continued. "If I did I would never do what I'm about to." As he finished speaking, he dropped to his knees in front of the hobbit, kissing his stomach while his hands worked to remove Bilbo's trousers.

"Thorin, what?" Bilbo asked trying to make sense of the dwarf King kneeling in front of him and failing miserably. Was this some strange dwarven method of showing you though the other was worthy? Thorin said nothing. He just continued kissing the bare flesh of Bilbo's stomach, the kisses trailing southward as the hobbit's trousers finally fell. Then the dwarf's hands were on his bare hips, caressing the place where his hip bones were visible for the first time in his life. The touch felt so sinfully good that Bilbo felt himself becoming aroused, much to his embarrassment since the obvious sign of his arousal was near the King's face.

Which seemed to be exactly what Thorin wanted. As soon as Bilbo had begun to stir, Thorin had taken one of his hands from Bilbo's hips and stroked gently along the engorging flesh. Bilbo let out a strangled sound at the touch. No one had ever . . . even he had only rarely . . . and then the touch repeated and it was everything the hobbit could do not to moan. The touch came a few more times, but then it was replaced by a different sensation. That of warm breath. At the newest stimuli, Bilbo's eyes flew open and he looked at the dwarf. Thorin was looking back up at him, studying him almost.

"Thorin, what are you—"

"Hush, Halfling," the King replied from his position kneeling in front of the hobbit. In that position, Thorin's face was level with Bilbo's . . . surely the King didn't intend to . . . Bilbo's protests were silenced in a moan as Thorin proved that was indeed what he intended to do and closed his mouth around Bilbo's member, one of his hands snaking around to the small of the hobbit's back to help support him while the other held his hip gently.

"Thorin!" Bilbo squeaked in surprise as the King's tongue ran up the underside of him. He hadn't known that  _this_ was possible. The idea of someone having his penis (or him having someone elses) in their mouth almost disgusted him. He couldn't . . . and then rational though vanished as the dwarf sucked and pleasure overrode thought. He wasn't even sure that he knew his own name in the face of the sensations coming from Thorin's mouth around him. He couldn't even bring himself to worry about the fact that what they were doing was dirty or wrong. All he could do was  _feel_. And oh how he enjoyed the feeling.

Thorin fought the urge to smile at the change passion wrought in the hobbit. Where Bilbo's face was generally pinched in some thought or another, passion smoothed it. He couldn't resist the urge to compare the real thing to his imaginings yet again and realized that he had also gotten the sounds wrong. Bilbo's moans were not the deep rumbles of the dwarves, but rather high plaintive things that caused Thorin to want to give him whatever it was that he desired. Bilbo was glorious in ecstasy. More so than he ever could have imagined.

The King was being creative, duplicating what his past lovers had done that he had enjoyed, and the hobbit was nearly beside himself. It had only been moments, but Thorin could already feel Bilbo beginning to tremble and taste the saltiness of him on his tongue. Knowing that it would do no good for the hobbit to come undone so quickly, Thorin stopped, released the hobbit, and stroked his skin with slow, gentle caresses until he stopped shuddering.

"Wha—" Bilbo tried to ask, but he couldn't seem to for a coherent thought well enough to ask his question. But he didn't need to, Thorin could guess what the question was.

"That was oral sex, Bilbo," the dwarf explained. "It is only one of the many pleasures available in this world. Would you like me to introduce you to another?" At his words the hobbit let out another strangled sound, but nodded his head in the affirmative. With a smile, the King stood and walked to his pack. Had the boys given him fair warning he would have already had everything prepared, but as it was, this would give Bilbo a chance to recover himself before Thorin drove him mad once more. From his pack, he took a blanket and a vial of leather oil. It was clear to him that Bilbo was a virgin, his reaction had told the king as much, and he lamented that his first time had to be in the woods on a thin blanket rather than in a bed, but it would suffice.

He spread the blanket out on the ground next to Bilbo and uncapped the oil, taking some and coating his fingers before recapping it and setting it beside him. Bilbo watched him in curiousity but said nothing. Warning the hobbit of his intentions with his eyes, Thorin returned his mouth to the hobbit's member, knowing that the pleasure of it would provide a distraction for the discomfort that was to come. This time, Bilbo's hands came to rest in the King's hair, whether trying to keep him from moving deeper or moving away, Thorin didn't know and he wasn't sure that Bilbo did either.

Taking that as a good sign, Thorin began to explore Bilbo's entrance with his oiled fingers, teasing but not entering just yet. When the hobbit moaned at the touch, Thorin took it as the invitation it was and slowly pressed in a finger, giving a particularly strong suck at the same time to mask the pain that might accompany the entrance.

"Thorin," Bilbo moaned his name and the King felt himself twitch in response. "What are you—"

"Hush, Bilbo," the King said, removing his mouth just long enough to reassure the hobbit. "I know it may be a little uncomfortable, but I promise you it is worth it. However if I hurt you, tell me and we will slow down or stop if that is what you want, alright?" Bilbo nodded and Thorin resumed his ministrations, slowly preparing the hobbit to receive him.

Despite Bilbo's uncertainty, he couldn't help but enjoy the feeling of Thorin's fingers within him. He still wasn't sure that this was in any way proper, and he was certain that it was dirty and probably wrong, but he found that he didn't give a  _damn_  about propriety when it felt so  _good_. And then there was no more room for thought. Thorin had brushed something inside him and it was only the dwarf's arm around his waist that kept him upright as his vision flashed white.

"Do you like this?" Thorin asked, needing to hear it from the hobbit, even though the noises he was making answered the question clearly.

"Yes," Bilbo panted. "What did—what was?"

"I'm not sure how to explain that," Thorin said. "All I know is that there is one spot inside that causes intense pleasure. I managed to find it." To prove his point, Thorin stroked it again and the same sensation flooded Bilbo leaving him feeling weak.

"Do you think that you are ready to continue?" Thorin asked. "If not, we can do this a while longer. This will move at your pace."

"I-I think . . . I think I'm ready," Bilbo said uncertainly. He wasn't sure what the next step would be, but he trusted the dwarf. He had yet to cause Bilbo pain and every time he suggested something new the pleasure Bilbo felt only intensified.

"Come here then," Thorin said, patting the blanket beside him. "While I would love to watch your face while we do this, it will be easier this way. Get on your hands and knees, if you will." Bilbo wondered what the dwarf wanted him in such a position for, but Thorin had yet to steer him wrong yet so he complied..

"Yes," Thorin offered a bit of praise for the hobbit, "Just like that. Now, what I'm about to do may be uncomfortable. But just as before, it should not hurt. If I actually hurt you I want you to tell me." Bilbo nodded his consent and the dwarf smiled, stroking his back gently. "Good, now just relax. I will not hurt you." Bilbo again wondered what Thorin intended to do to him when he felt something hot and blunt press against the hole that had so recently held the dwarf's fingers and felt himself tense on instinct.

Surely Thorin didn't mean to . . . he had seen it, there was no what that it would fit there.

"Thorin," Bilbo said, panic coloring the words.

"Shh," Thorin soothed. "I swear to you that it will be fine Bilbo. Try to relax. Focus on the patterns that my hands are drawing on your skin. Try to tell me what they are." While he spoke, his fingers began tracing strange designs on the bare skin of Bilbo's back while his voice whispered praise and comfort in the hobbit's ear. As he felt Bilbo relax around him, he slowly pressed into the warmth of the hobbit, stopping when he was completely in.

"See," Thorin said. "I told you. It did not hurt, did it?" At his words the hobbit gave a little noise of discomfort and shifted his hips as though attempting to alleviate it, another small noise following when it fixed nothing.

"Thorin, it . . . " Bilbo stopped unsure how to explain it. It didn't hurt, but it was uncomfortable. He felt full, down there, and his mind was telling him that he needed to go and dig a hole in the woods. He was embarrassed. How was he supposed to tell the King that he needed him to move so that something else could use that passage?

"Have I hurt you?" the King replied more upset by the idea than he had expected he would be. There was genuine distress in the hobbit's voice and he felt shame burn through him. He should never have attempted this. Bilbo was too small, too delicate. He should have known better than to try to take him as a mate.

"No," Bilbo replied, shaking his head. "It's just . . . uncomfortable. I feel like I need to . . ." At Bilbo's embarrassed words, Thorin couldn't help but laugh.

"That is normal," Thorin promised. "Or so I am told. It will pass. Give it a moment longer and if it does not, we will think of something else to do, alright." Bilbo agreed and stayed there for a moment waiting for the need to pass. And pass it did, leaving in its wake a feeling of being full but not uncomfortable and what could only be described as pleasure.

As pleasure took the place of discomfort, Bilbo shifted his hips again, this time a moan—rather than a groan—rising up his throat. Thorin recognized the sound for what it was and slowly pulled out before pressing back in gently, only to be rewarded with another moan from the hobbit beneath him. They continued in this way for a short time before Thorin pulled out entirely.

"Roll over," he said. "I would see your face." Bilbo had no objections as he would also like to see if he had been correct in his imaginings of how passion would smooth the lines of Thorin's face and if it would make him more approachable. It did. Those blue eyes that Bilbo had loved since he had first seen them, they were soft with affection and burning with lust at the same time. They captured him and when combined with the feeling of the dwarf moving inside him, he didn't care that he had been caught.

Even with the lust burring in Bilbo's eyes and the flush covering his cheeks, Thorin did not lose himself as he had feared he would. The small hip bones under his hands reminded him that finesse were required even in the face of his own passion. He set a gentle, yet quick, pace that soon had them both on the edge of pleasure. Their cries becoming more desperate as they neared the end. When it came, Bilbo's eyes went wide with shock and he let out a high keening moan as his body began to contract rhythmically and he spilt his seed.

The sight of the hobbit writing in ecstasy was greater than Thorin could have ever imagined and coupled with the feeling of Bilbo tightening around him, pulled the dwarf into the abyss.

Some time later, neither of them was sure how long, coherent thought returned. Thorin slowly pulled out of Bilbo and pulled the hobbit into a gentle embrace, enjoying the contented sound that Bilbo made as the king stroked his damp curls off his forehead. His hazel eyes opened at the contact and he smiled tiredly up at Thorin.

"Was it worth it?" Thorin asked returning the smile with a small one of his own. Bilbo nodded, all thought of propriety gone from his mind as he lay in the arms of his dwarf lover. That had been beyond worth it. And if the residents of Hobbiton ever found out . . . well hang them. Even if it was a little messy, it had been beyond worth it. And there was a stream right there.

"Can we do it again?" Bilbo asked quietly, his voice a contented hum.

"My dear hobbit," Thorin replied kissing Bilbo firmly on the mouth, "we can do it as often as you like."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there we are all. Thorin and Bilbo's first time (for the purpose of this story anyway). I figured that with as prude as I have hobbits, Bilbo would experience at least a little mental angst at being attracted to a male dwarf. I also thought it would be interesting to see just how far Bilbo came during the course of the quest (from a "respectable" hobbit who—among other things—was squeamish at the idea of oral sex, to the debauched little thing that traumatized Dwalin and had what one could almost argue was public sex) I would love to know what you think on my take of their first time!
> 
> Also, I have no idea why my smut chapters are growing so monstrous . . . If I'm not careful this thing will be longer than the actual story ;)


	4. Make-up Sex

"Do you think that we are the first ones up or do you think that there will be breakfast on the table?" Bilbo asked amicably. "I am quite famished today for some reason."

"It could be because you didn't eat yesterday," Thorin said with a quirk in his lips at Bilbo's return to his normal demeanor. "Not eating tends to make one famished." Bilbo only tisked in response.

"I did not ask for commentary on my eating habits," Bilbo replied with a smirk. "Now, do you think they are up or will we have to cook. And by we, I mean _I_. I remember your attempts at cooking."

"My food is more than edible," Thorin countered falling into their familiar banter with a smile. "Me and the boys survived on it for years when Dís was not with us. I didn't always travel with a cook. And I spent much time on the road."

"Just like dwarvish ale is drinkable," Bilbo muttered, earning himself a light swat.

"It's not our fault that your smaller body can't handle the alcohol," Thorin retorted. "Though I will have to convince them to build a distillery here. Hobbit ale doesn't seem to be enough to cause you to become inebriated and you are _quite_ affectionate in such a state." In reply, Bilbo molded himself to Thorin's frame.

"It wasn't the alcohol," he replied with a smile before placing a chaste kiss to Thorin's neck just below his beard in a place that he knew drove his lover mad. "It was you. You make me affectionate." Thorin let out a moan as Bilbo nipped the same spot his lips had kissed only moments before.

"Stop that," the dwarf commanded half-heartedly.

"Or what?" Bilbo purred, nipping him again and smirking as Thorin moaned and raised his head to give Bilbo better access despite his protests and requests for the hobbit to stop.

"Or breakfast will have to be delayed a while longer," the dwarf threatened. "Mahal, Bilbo, I swear that if you do that again I will not be held responsible for my actions."

"You've said that before, My King," Bilbo replied cheekily. "I've found that I quite like the results of absolving you of the responsibility for your actions."

"I . . . I'm not a king," Thorin reminded him, embarrassed at his own breathlessness. "Not anymore."

"Ah," Bilbo breathed in Thorin's ear taking the time to lick behind it for good measure and loving the way Thorin hissed at the contact, "but what you forget is that as far as I am concerned you still are. I gifted my heart to a king, you see, and a king has always held it. As that is you, you will always be my king even if to the rest of the world you are just Thorin Oakenshield, blacksmith extraordinaire." The words had the exact effect that Bilbo had believed they would and before he could even blink, he was on his back on the bed with a pillow below his shoulders.

"Do you have _any_ idea what your words do to me?" Thorin demanded as he dipped his head and began nipping along Bilbo's throat as the hobbit had done his only moments before.

"I do," Bilbo replied, his smirk evident in his words. "I know _exactly_ what they do to you. I know _you_ , Thorin. I know just what to say and do to make you come undone and I love that knowledge."

"That is not one sided, Bilbo," Thorin whispered darkly. "I could do such things to you . . . in fact if you will allow it, I will. There is still the matter of our bet to be settled. It would delay breakfast but—"

"Breakfast can wait," the hobbit panted in reply. "I've gone longer without a meal for less pleasant things." Thorin growled low in his throat and began devouring Bilbo's throat in earnest.

The feeling of his beard on the sensitive flesh of Bilbo's throat was nearly painful but also heady. It had been too long since they had been together like this. He couldn't help the small mewl of protest that left his throat as Thorin moved into his bedside table and removed from it a vial of oil before moving warily to the corner he had taken as his own.

"Bilbo?" Thorin said softly before he began rummaging in his things, "do you think . . . would you allow me . . . the deal we made the other day, just how far does it go?"

"What do you mean?" Bilbo replied, trying to force his brain to work through the haze of desire that Thorin's touch had created. He had to admit that he was a bit apprehensive as Thorin came back towards him with his hands behind his back. He rose from the bed to meet his lover halfway and was stopped by Thorin's gentle hand on his shoulder.

" Would my ability to do with you as I wish extend to you allowing me to bind you?" Thorin asked. "I find that I would very much like to do so. To see you writhe below me as I drive you to the limits of yourself and beyond. Would you let me?"

 “You want to do _what_ now?” Bilbo asked incredulously. He knew that he had to have misheard Thorin through the haze of his desire. If he didn’t know better he’d think that he just heard Thorin ask him if he would let Thorin tie him up. But he couldn’t have asked _that_!

“I would like to bind your hands to the bed,” Thorin said simply, his expression as neutral as though he were asking to serve chicken instead of pork at a party. “I swear that I will not harm you, and the ties will not be overly tight. I have some soft rope; it will leave no marks.”

“You want to tie me to the bed?” Bilbo asked, his voice showing his incredulity. “Haven’t we had more than enough bondage in our time together, Thorin?”

“I will admit that there have been more than enough instances where one or the other of us was bound, however neither of us has ever been responsible for the bondage. I think that I might enjoy watching you writhe under my hands without being able to escape.” Thorin’s words went straight through Bilbo, causing lust to rise within him. He swallowed convulsively and hoped that his voice would answer his call.

“J-just your hands?” Bilbo asked breathlessly. It didn’t matter how many times he had seen it, the look in Thorin’s blue eyes as they burnt with lust was overwhelming. He knew that he probably would have agreed to anything at that moment.

“Oh no, my dear hobbit, I intend to bring you pleasure in _every_ way possible,” Thorin purred, leaning in to run his tongue along the shell of Bilbo’s ear taking special care to flick the pointed tip with his tongue before he moved on. “Trust me, ­ âzyungâl. Have I ever hurt you in the bedroom yet?”  Bilbo let out a small moan at the words. His breath coming in shuddery gasps.

“And if I don’t like it?” Bilbo asked, he knew what the answer would be, but he needed to hear it.

“If you don’t like it, I will free you at your first request,” Thorin promised. “This is about pleasure, not discomfort.” Bilbo nodded. He had known that was what the dwarf would say.

“In that case, ­ âzyungâl,” Bilbo whispered, not missing Thorin’s growl at his use of the Khuzdul word, “Do as you will with me.” Even though Bilbo had been _expecting_ the reaction he received, he hadn’t been entirely _prepared_ for it and the enthusiasm with which Thorin threw himself at the hobbit nearly bowled him over. But it didn’t matter because the dwarf’s arms were wrapped around him, preventing him from falling as Thorin hungrily plundered his mouth.

“I take it you have wanted this for some time?” Bilbo panted when they came up momentarily for air.

“Whatever gave you _that_ idea,” Thorin growled, his hands beginning to roam Bilbo’s body as he began stripping the hobbit of his layers. “It’s amusing, you know,” Thorin said suddenly with a fond smile on his face.

“What?” Bilbo asked. Anything that Thorin could find amusing was sure to please him as well. He loved it when Thorin was pleased.

“During the quest you always complained about my layers and now it is you, my dear hobbit, that wears far too much cloth for my liking,” Thorin said, his eyes smoldering. “I would see your skin bared under my fingers, not merely another layer of fabric that I must fight my way through.”

“It’s called anticipation, my dear dwarf,” Bilbo smirked. “It helps to make this last longer. If I came to you naked we would be done in no time at all. This way we both have to take our time and enjoy it.”

“You will regret those words, Bilbo Baggins,” Thorin promised darkly. “By the time I am through with you, you will never say that clothing is required to prolong our lovemaking again. I will show you the meaning of the word stamina.”

“Now, Thorin,” Bilbo said nervously, “I am ol—“

“If you are young and foolish enough to mock the stamina of a dwarf you are young enough to endure said dwarf’s proof of his stamina,” Thorin cut off, dropping Bilbo’s shirt into the chair beside the bed and making short work of the hobbit’s pants. “Now, lie on the bed on your back. Arms over your head.” Bilbo did as he was told, laying on the bed, his arms over his head and feeling entirely ridiculous.

He closed his eyes as he felt Thorin’s calloused hand close gently around his wrist, the dwarf placing a kiss there before wrapping it with a soft rope that he tied just as he had promised he would. The loop was just tight enough that Bilbo could not slip his hand through it but not tight enough to injure him or make his fingers go numb. The tension was also perfect. Thorin secured the rope so that Bilbo was unable to move his arm, but it did not cause his shoulder any discomfort. His other wrist was treated the same way, and Thorin stood back to survey his handiwork, his gaze a heated thing that Bilbo felt like a caress. He whimpered slightly from need and attempted in vain to move.

“They are not too tight, are they, ­­­­Bilbo?" Thorin breathed, his eyes still smoldering though there was concern there.

“No,” Bilbo replied. “I’m fine. It’s strange but not painful.” Thorin smiled. Bilbo had said something like that to him before and that time Thorin had awoken something in the hobbit that even the dwarf had been unprepared for. Rather than fear of what might come to pass, Thorin was exhilarated.

“In that case,” Thorin purred kneeling on the bed to nuzzle Bilbo’s neck and whisper into his ear, “would you allow me to take this just a bit farther?”

“How so?” Bilbo asked, feeling a bit apprehensive of what _else_ Thorin might want from him. Rather than say anything, Thorin shifted on the bed and encircled Bilbo’s ankle with his hand, a small smile on his face and an eyebrow raised questioningly.

“Oh! Just do as you will!” Bilbo scoffed. “I already said that I would submit to you; just do as you want. Only . . .”

“I will not hurt you, my love,” Thorin promised, kissing Bilbo gently and caressing the side of his face. “Do not worry. I never want to hear a cry of pain leave your lips again, let alone one caused by my hand.”

Bilbo smiled at the words. Again, he had known that Thorin felt that way, but to hear it said . . . nothing could have made him happier except perhaps . . .

“This is horribly unfair, you know?” Bilbo said suddenly as Thorin gently bound his ankle to the bedpost.

“How so?” the dwarf replied with a predatory grin. “You, my dear hobbit, lost the bet. Your body was your collateral, therefore I may do with you as I wish, remember?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Bilbo replied, a moan threatening to rise up his throat at Thorin’s grin. “I was talking about the fact that here I am, naked and bound to the bed, while you’re still fully clothed. It is most unfair. That you get to do as you will and I’m forced to look at clothing.”

“I can fix that,” the dwarf breathed removing his shirt slowly with a calculating look in his eyes as he watched Bilbo watch him. Once he had the article of clothing in his hands, he gently folded and rolled it before approaching the head of the bed. Warning the hobbit of his intentions with his eyes, he gently—but firmly—tied the shirt around the top of Bilbo’s head, covering his eyes.

“There,” Thorin said, his tone showing that he was _quite_ pleased with himself.

“This wasn’t quite what I had in mind,” Bilbo replied with a wry smile.

“Does it distress you?” the dwarf asked to which Bilbo shook his head. “Then, my dear Bilbo, I’m afraid that this is not about what _you_ had in mind. I would tell you to be silent, but I do _so_ love the noises that you make.” Bilbo moaned at the words. It was unfair; the things Thorin could do to him without ever touching him. “Just like that one,” the dwarf purred before leaning down to run his nose along Bilbo’s throat and earning himself another moan. This would be far too easy. It seemed that being bound and blind made Bilbo more sensitive than he generally was.

As Thorin moved down Bilbo's chest, his hair trailing over his shoulders to tickle the hobbit, Bilbo shifted his hips and let out a small whimper.

"So eager," Thorin chuckled. "I haven't even touched you yet and already you are hard for me. Tell me, Bilbo, what would it do to you if I was to do this?" Bilbo wondered just what 'this' was but only had to wait a second before he felt Thorin's mouth close around one of his nipples, teeth lightly grazing the sensitive flesh while the dwarf's tongue flicked against it. A wanton moan rose up the hobbit's throat as his back arched off the bed.

"I thought that might be your reaction," Thorin muttered smugly before moving to the other nipple and treating it to the same attention.  Bilbo squirmed again, his breath already beginning to come in shallow gasps that made Thorin wonder if perhaps he should take mercy on the poor old hobbit. He didn't want to _kill_ Bilbo after all.  He pulled back to survey his lover and try to decide if Bilbo could truly endure what he had planned. The decision was made for him when Bilbo whined at the loss of stimulation.

"Please, Thorin, please," Bilbo begged. "Please don't just tease me. If . . . if you're going to tie me so that I can't do it, at least _touch me."_ Thorin smirked at the order. For all his intelligence, Bilbo did have something to learn about giving orders and getting people to follow them the way he wanted.

"As you wish," Thorin replied before trailing his fingers up Bilbo's inner thighs _almost_ to the juncture of his hips before skipping over Bilbo's engorged member entirely and stroking the hobbit's cheeks gently.

"There," the dwarf said with a smile, "I am touching you. Are you satisfied, Bilbo?" Bilbo's frustrated growl was answer enough and drew a true laugh from the dwarf. "No?" Thorin asked. "Is this what you were wanting then?" As he spoke, he ran his fingers gently down Bilbo's neck and chest—taking special pains to avoid the areas that he knew drove the hobbit wild—down to his hips before skipping over the hobbit's privates once more.

"No," Bilbo snapped. "That's not what I want either. You know damn well what I want, Thorin Oakenshield. You just don't want to give it to me."

"Don't I?" Thorin asked, mock hurt in his tone. "I want to give it to you, Bilbo. I thought that I was. You just need to be more specific about what you want from me, my hobbit. Tell me _exactly_ what you want me to do."

" _That's_ your game?!"  Bilbo demanded. "You want me to explain to you in vulgar detail what I want you to do and only _then_ do you plan to do it? I thought this was about what _you_ had planned, not what I did."

"My plans included tying you and hearing and seeing your enjoyment of this," Thorin replied. "What happens to cause that . . . if you enjoy it, so do I."

"Fine," Bilbo said wondering just how far Thorin was willing to take this. "I want you to take that clever mouth of yours and put it to a use that doesn't include sassing me."

"And what use would that be, Bilbo?" Thorin asked watching Bilbo's neck and cheeks color with embarrassment. Even if Bilbo had become quite debauched over the years he had never quite managed dirty talk in bed. But when he did . . . Thorin loved hearing filthy things fall from his hobbit's mouth in private.

"Suck me," Bilbo whispered. "There," he shifted his hips for emphasis and Thorin laughed. It wasn't quite what he had in mind but it would work for a start.

Bilbo had no more warning than the scrape of Thorin's beard on his skin before he felt the dwarf's mouth close around his member. Thorin went above and beyond the command, not just sucking but also laving the underside of him with his tongue as he did and the marvelousness of the sensation after sixty years having not felt it made Bilbo buck his hips unconsciously. Unprepared for the motion, Thorin gagged before pulling back and placing a hand on Bilbo's hip to hold the hobbit down as he caught his breath.

"Now, Bilbo," Thorin panted. "You . . . You didn't say you wanted to do _that_. Only that you wanted me to suck. If _that_ is what you have in mind you need to tell me so that I can—"

"That wasn't planned," Bilbo groaned. "I . . . I'll try not to do it again but _please_ don't stop."

"Do you promise?" Thorin asked with a smile as he bent again only to run his tongue along Bilbo's penis from base to tip. The hobbit squirmed under his hand but managed not to buck against him, despite the moan that rose up his throat.

"Yes," he bit out. "Please." Thorin nodded and returned his mouth to the hobbit's member and continued his ministrations, stopping when Bilbo's breathing began to grow ragged and he began struggling against both the bonds and Thorin's hand. Bilbo let out a frustrated groan as Thorin backed away and moved to sit beside him on the bed stroking his curls.

"You . . . you're not going to finish this, are you?" Bilbo panted out.

"Not yet," Thorin agreed. "I do have stamina to prove, after all. I can't do that if you go and finish after so little time, can I?"

"It's not _my_ stamina you are trying to prove," Bilbo argued. "You . . . you're proving nothing of your own this way."

"What about my self-control?" Thorin purred licking Bilbo's ear again. "I am proving that I have that by not untying your feet and burying myself in you now."

"What's stopping you?" Bilbo whispered. "I assure you it's not me. I want nothing more than for you to burry yourself in me. I have missed this, Thorin. Please . . . I'll let you have your fun another time but . . . take me. Please take me, My King."

"That's not fair at all, my burglar," Thorin growled as he moved down the bed to untie Bilbo's ankles, unable to deny such a lewd suggestion in such a sweet tone. "You are cheating."

"I'm powerless at the moment, Thorin," Bilbo replied. "Blind, tied. Defenseless. I have to cheat." Thorin hummed in response as he bent Bilbo's knees to grant himself access to the hobbit's rear end. He opened the bottle and was surprised at the smell that wafted to his nose.

"Sandalwood?" Thorin asked. "This doesn't grow in the Shire."

"It doesn't," Bilbo agreed.

"It's my favorite. I didn't expect it. I . . . I was expecting roses or some other flower," Thorin said. "I . . . I didn't even know you _liked_ this scent. It's the one . . ." he trailed off as he realized why Bilbo had that scent in his drawer. The same drawer that had held his beads and hair clasp. He had always heard that scent was the strongest tie to memory. Surely those things were not in there together out of mere coincidence.

"Bilbo?" he whispered, tears choking his words. "Why do you have this?"

"I . . . I wanted to remember you," Bilbo whispered. "I had Balin bring me a vial from Erebor on one of his visits. On nights when I missed you and it was too much to bear . . ."

"You took it out and smelled it," Thorin completed for him and Bilbo nodded. "Oh, Bilbo." He lay down and wrapped his arms around his mate feeling his heart break anew for what Bilbo had been forced to endure.

"None of that now!" Bilbo snapped. "You don't get to feel sorry for me. Not when you can make it up to me instead. Now, I think you were about to put that oil to better use than remembrances."

"Was I?" Thorin asked smirking as he baited Bilbo once more.

"You were," Bilbo said.

"What was I going to do with it?" Thorin asked, unwilling to give up his game entirely even if he was going to take things more quickly than he had originally intended.

Bilbo groaned and flushed crimson before he took a deep breath and said in a rush, "You were about to use it to coat those wicked fingers of yours and then use them to fuck me open so that you can take me."

"Bilbo!" Thorin said, scandalized at Bilbo's language. "Where did you learn _that_ word!"

"That's not the point," Bilbo retorted. "Are you going to do what I said or do I have to phrase it as a command?"

"I'm nearly afraid to ask you to," Thorin replied, his tone both apprehensive and grudgingly appreciative at Bilbo's vulgarity.

"I'll say it anyway,"  Bilbo said. "Use the oil and prepare me to be used by you."

"As you command," Thorin purred before doing as he had been told and beginning to press an oil coated finger into his hobbit. Bilbo let out a moan at the contact, a high, needy thing.

"Oh, yes," he panted. "Just like that, my king!" Thorin laughed quietly at Bilbo's enthusiasm despite his protests of being old and continued his task. It took longer than he recalled it taking to widen his hobbit enough that a second finger would easily fit and he felt another surge of remorse for what they had done in the alley. He vowed that at the first sign of discomfort they would stop. He had to have injured Bilbo more than the hobbit had let on if it was taking this long to ready him now. By the time a third finger would fit Bilbo was an incoherent mess of moaning hobbit under the dwarf's hands.

Eventually, Thorin felt that he could safely progress to penetration without risk to Bilbo and removed his fingers—to a high babble of protest from the hobbit—to coat his own member with oil before beginning to press into his hobbit. He was briefly pleased with himself for having driven Bilbo to the point of losing his ability to speak and was going to tease him about it. When he spoke, however, he realized that he was in no better state. He was prepared to hear the softer timbre of Westron but instead it was the familiar harshness of Khuzdul that met his ears in broken sentences as he set a rhythm with his hobbit.

It did not take long before even that was lost to him in the face of the pleasure that Bilbo's willing writhing below him conjured up. Bilbo came well before he did, a startled cry rising up the hobbit's throat as if his own orgasm had taken him by surprise but Thorin was not close enough for the rhythmic contractions to finish him. His thrusts became quicker, nearly desperate, as he tried to finish before Bilbo's orgasm had been completed. He knew from experience that once one had come sex was too much to stand and he did not want to put Bilbo through that if he could avoid it, nor did he want to have to finish on the sheets. He knew that he wasn't going to make it. Then came the one thing that could have done it.

In the midst of his own waves of pleasure, Bilbo managed to whisper one word: Thorin's name. That one little word whispered in such reverent tones . . . it was enough to drag the dwarf over the edge and allow him to reach his own completion just as Bilbo's body ceased convulsing around him. Once sanity returned, Thorin reached up and gently untied Bilbo's wrists, placing a kiss to each one as it was freed. As soon as he had released the first one, Bilbo had removed his make-shift blindfold.

"That was . . . " Bilbo panted attempting to find a word that adequately described how he felt and failing.

"So we can try this some other time?" Thorin asked.

"Perhaps," Bilbo replied nuzzling the dwarf's shoulder affectionately. "Just remember that next time it's my turn to pick how we do this."

"Your turn?" Thorin demanded.  Bilbo hummed low in his throat as he nodded. "How do you figure that?"

"You accosted me in an alleyway and bound me to my own bed," Bilbo said with a laugh. "Next time I get to decide how we do this, My king. I get to pick where I take _you._ Perhaps I will test both your stamina and self control." It would have been a lie of Thorin said that he felt no rush of desire at the statement or the decidedly predatory smile on Bilbo's face. He quickly decided that he couldn't wait for next time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :/ I'm not sure how I feel about this one. They weren't even supposed to be having sex in my original plan for this chapter but . . . well, Bilbo had to go and get all amorous on me and this was born . . . as to the kink . . . I do not know where that came from but I regret nothing! This was still TAME compared to another one I'm working on. I hope you enjoyed and I would LOVE to hear what you think because for some reason I'm not happy with this one and can't rewrite it so that I am. *Shrugs* Well, let me know what you thought especially if anything just bothered you in this one :/ I hope you enjoyed it,  
> Stickdonkeys


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